Decline
Present me with a glass, sunshine.
Giddy laughter, happily after.
All good things must decline.
Bundle of bones, smothered by vine.
A day to mourn—there is no laughter;
Present me with a glass of wine.
Leathered skin; drooping midline,
hanging from a lonely rafter.
All good things must decline.
Worshipping the goddess shrine
of the sun that comes thereafter;
Present me with a glass, opine.
Blinded faith: there is no sign
from the first earthly crafter.
Even faith must decline.
Hope is fleeting, by design.
All alone, my keeper’s capture;
Present me with a glass, resigned.
Everything must decline.